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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27280033">Whole</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred'>msred</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Starting Over [32]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>American (US) Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adoption, Bedtime Routine, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Hamilton Lyrics, Married Life, Parenthood, Porn with Feelings, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:35:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27280033</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/msred/pseuds/msred</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It occurred to me that my devoted husband had been gone much longer than necessary to let the dogs out for their final potty run and backyard romp. It took me all of half a second to figure out where he probably was.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chris Evans (Actor) &amp; Original Female Character(s), Chris Evans (Actor) &amp; Reader, Chris Evans (Actor) &amp; You, Chris Evans (Actor)/Original Female Character(s), Chris Evans (Actor)/Reader, Chris Evans (Actor)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Starting Over [32]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1423663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dear (Little Brody)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, so in case I haven't made it clear already ("You Matter to Me" is probably a big clue), I'm a bit of a musical theatre nerd and I have a habit of getting into cycles of bingeing certain soundtracks. Most recently (and for the hundredth time) it's been Hamilton, mostly because @wildcatlizzie mentioned to me one day that she'd listened to "Wait for It" twice on her way to work that morning, which inspired me to do the same, which then made me realize that listening to the soundtrack on my way to work gave me an excuse to yell "fuck" at the top of my lungs a couple times each morning during the drive ("Yorktown" and "Washington on Your Side").  Great stress reliever ... Anyway, in the midst of all that, this little idea was born. If you don't know the song, please please PLEASE go listen to it. https://youtu.be/8TXTWwNtXwM</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>55 months together, 38 months married, 8 hours post-adoption (July, Year 7)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The episode of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Schitt’s Creek</span>
  </em>
  <span> we’d been watching ended - our third time through the series since we’d been married, my fifth total - and Netflix decided it was a good time to shame me with its “Are you still watching?” message. I mumbled a quick </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh fuck off </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the television but figured that was my cue to gather up my wine glass and Chris’s beer bottles and take them to the kitchen. On my way there it occurred to me that my devoted husband had been gone much longer than necessary to let the dogs out for their final potty run and backyard romp. It took me all of half a second to figure out where he probably was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dropped the bottles carefully into the recycling bin and put my glass into the dishwasher then checked that the dogs were no longer outside and that the door was locked and headed upstairs. I was quiet as I made my way up, my socked feet landing softly on each step. As soon as I hit the second-floor hall, I could hear Chris’s voice. I couldn’t make out the words, but he was definitely speaking. When I was just outside Brody’s room, the door open - which it definitely hadn’t been when we’d put him to bed and gone back downstairs nearly two hours earlier - I heard Chris say, his voice low and quiet, “I hope you know how much we love you, how much we want you. I hope you’re happy here.” God. My heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years earlier I’d been terrified, practically paralyzed by fear, because I knew that I had to tell Chris that carrying a child, giving birth to a biological child of my own, was out of the question. I’d made my peace with the situation years earlier, had accepted that it wasn’t something that was going to happen for me and had been content with ‘adopting’ kids at school to take care of, especially since my first husband had never felt a pull to have kids anyway. But I’d just known that it would be a deal-breaker for Chris, who I knew even then was meant to be a father. Instead he’d been perfect, loving and supportive and reassuring as always. Then seven months earlier, three years after we’d had that terrifying (for me) conversation, and without any real premeditation, I’d started laying the groundwork for what had become our reality, or world - Brody, in our home, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ours</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I stepped into the doorway, lifting my hand to wrap around the door jamb and tilting my head so that my temple rested on the wood framing the door to our son’s room. Chris sat on the edge of Brody’s bed, looking down at him and combing his fingers through his hair as one foot rested on the floor and the other leg stretched the length of Brody’s body on top of the covers. I knew he knew I was there. He didn’t look at me or change what he was doing at all, but my shadow from the hall light fell across his lap and Brody’s side, and I thought I saw a smile pass over his lips, just for a second, before he started to sing.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>“Dear </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>Little Brody</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span>, what to say to you?</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>You have </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>my name</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span>. You have your </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>mother’s smile</em>
    </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>When you came into </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>our home</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span>, you cried and it broke my heart”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>I’m dedicating every day to you</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Domestic life </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>has always been</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span> my style</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>When you smile, </span>
    </em>
    <em>
      <span>you knock me out, I fall apart</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>And I thought I was so smart”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>He looked up at me for the briefest of moments, his eyes just flicking up, really, and just barely let the corners of his mouth tick up into a self-deprecating smile before turning his attention back to the peacefully sleeping little boy at his hip.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>“You will come of age with our young </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>family</em>
    </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>If we lay a strong enough foundation</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>We’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>And you’ll blow us all away…</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Someday, someday</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Yeah, you’ll blow us all away</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Someday, someday”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Brody shifted and Chris stilled, his hand sinking into the pillow above the crown of our boy’s head, but all Brody did was roll onto his side and curl himself toward Chris, tucking his forehead against his dad’s hip and resting his little hand on Chris’s thigh. Chris grinned and curled his hand back around the top of Brody’s head, his thumb brushing back and forth just above Brody’s ear.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>"Oh </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>Brody</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span>, when you smile I am undone</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>My son”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>He looked up at me in earnest then, his eyes locked on mine as he sang the next line. </span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>“Look at </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>our son</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span>. Pride is not the word I’m looking for</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>There is so much more inside me now”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>My chest grew tight and my throat burned. Chris winked, like he knew what I was feeling, then looked back down at our sleeping son. I watched for a second longer, my heart pounding and butterflies dancing in my stomach as he continued to sing. I couldn’t continue to hover on the edges. I padded carefully into the room to stand at his side as he sang. He didn’t take his eyes off Brody, but when I got close enough he reached for me, wrapping his arm around my legs and drawing me in just until the outside of my thigh brushed his shoulder.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>“Oh </span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em>Brody,</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span> you outshine the morning sun</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>My son</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>When you smile, I fall apart</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>And I thought I was so smart</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Your father isn’t</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span> around</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Your mother isn’t</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span> around”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>He sang both parts of the song without hesitation, simply changing the key smoothly and instinctively when switching from one character to the other. As he acknowledged that our boy had lost both of his biological parents already in his short life, Chris pulled me in a little tighter and laid his head over to rest on my hip. I turned in the circle of his arm so that his head rested on the softer flesh of my stomach and dropped one hand to the top of his head, the other trailing down the back of his neck, fingertips dipping into the neck of his tshirt. I made it clear I had no intention of going anywhere, and he loosened his grip, dragging his hand down the outside of my leg then back up as he sang.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>“I swear that</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>We’ll</em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span> be</span>
    </em>
    <a href="https://genius.com/Lin-manuel-miranda-and-leslie-odom-jr-dear-theodosia-lyrics#note-7904872">
      <em>
        <span> around for you</span>
      </em>
    </a>
  </p>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>We’ll </em>
    </b>
    <em>
      <span>do whatever it takes</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>I’ll make a million mistakes”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>I folded myself over him to kiss the top of his head.</span>
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>“We’ll make the world safe and sound for you…</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>…will come of age with our young</span>
    </em>
    <b>
      <em> family</em>
    </b>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>If we lay a strong enough foundation</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>We’ll pass it on to you, we’ll give the world to you</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>And you’ll blow us all away…</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Someday, someday</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Yeah, you’ll blow us all away</span>
    </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>Someday, someday”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>It was quiet for a few seconds when he finished singing. I refused to be the one to break the spell Chris had cast. I was more than happy to stand there for as long as he wanted to be there, just watching as he combed the fingers of his right hand gently through Brody’s hair, the fingers of the left mirroring the movement as they drifted over the outside of my thigh; watching Brody’s hand, too, the way it lay on Chris’s leg, relaxed, but twitching ever so slightly now and then as he slept. Even the dogs seemed to understand that it was a quiet moment, a special moment, both lying peacefully at the foot of the bed and watching the three of us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally Chris turned, pressing his lips to my stomach through my tank top. He tilted his head back and rested his chin just along my hipbone, blinking drowsily up at me. “You found me,” he said, voice just above a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t exactly difficult,” I teased, and he pressed his face back into my stomach and blew a puff of air against it. I dragged my fingers in circles through his hair and over the back of his neck and he wrapped his arm a little tighter around my legs. Finally he turned, letting his head fall to the side until his ear almost reached his shoulder and settling the top of his head against my hip so that he looked back over to Brody on his right. “So,” I started, my voice still light and teasing as I pulled my hand from just inside the neck of his shirt to make bigger, sweeping circles over his back, “are you rewriting </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hamilton </span>
  </em>
  <span>now?” I’d been tracing the shell of his ear with the hand that wasn’t rubbing his back, and I tugged on the lobe quickly but gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept the crown of his head pressed to my side, just above my hip, but craned around as far as he could until he could look up at me out of the corner of his eye. Even in that contorted position, he managed to look sheepish, his eyelashes batting up at me as he wrinkled his nose, and I moved my hand to his throat, the backs of my fingers skimming over his adam’s apple as I moved them from just under his chin to the hollow at the base of his throat and back up again. “D’you think Lin Manuel Miranda would be mad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cupped his cheek and traced my thumb over his cheekbone. “I think Lin Manuel Miranda would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>honored</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about The Kid? How do you think he feels?” He turned his head back down to look over at the boy in question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think he’s a little young to understand the concept of feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>honored</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I’m pretty positive he’s happy. And, more importantly, I think he feels how loved and how wanted he is, by both of us and by your entire family. I think he feels secure, and knows that this is his home and we are his family, and that it’s going to be that way from now on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chris went quiet again, just watching Brody sleep as he used his whole hand to push his hair back off his forehead and his temple. He continued that for a few minutes, sometimes changing it up and running his palm down Brody’s arm, or playing with his fingers where they rested on Chris’s leg, or covering his back with big, sweeping strokes. Eventually he pulled away from me, sitting up straight again and looking up at me. “I know it’s late. Can we stay here a little longer?” The sheepishness, the hopefulness, in his expression when he looked up at me made my stomach flip and tighten and my heart skip a couple beats. I had the overwhelming thought that everything I’d lived through up to that point - the mess of my childhood and my biological and step family, the struggle to grow and become independent and figure out who I really was on my own merits and values, the happiness of my first marriage and the absolute devastation when it was ripped away from me, the challenge of starting over again once it was gone, and, of course, the light that was brought back into my world when Chris came along - all of it had been leading to that moment, in that dark room with my incredible second husband and our new son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as you want,” was all I could manage to say around the lump in my throat and the tightness in my chest, and before I’d finished just those five words, Chris was pulling me down, scooting farther over on the bed as he did so that there was room for me to sit between his outstretched leg, which was gently nudging Brody closer to the wall as he moved, and the edge of the mattress. I matched my posture to his, leaning my back against his chest and fitting my legs into the ‘v’ of his, my right leg lying alongside his and stopping just above his ankle and my left foot planted just to the inside of his on the floor. His left arm circled my waist and pulled me back until I relaxed fully against him with my head resting on his right shoulder and collarbone, my face turned down to watch Brody sleep as I curled my hand around his where it rested on Chris’s leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was watching my thumb drift over Brody’s knuckles when Chris leaned his cheek against the side of my head to murmur into my ear, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shrugged. “It’s no problem. Neither one of us has to work tomorrow, and I like it here. We'll make it to bed eventually, no rush.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned to look up at him and he pressed his lips to my forehead. “You’re adorable,” he whispered against my skin, “but that’s not what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” I settled in against him a little more comfortably and turned my head back down to watch Brody’s eyelashes flutter on his cheek as he dreamed. “What did you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He exhaled heavily, slowly. “I mean thank you for my life, honestly. For this life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chris -,” I shook my head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” he tightened his arm around my waist and rested his chin on the top of my head so that I felt it move with every word, “I’m serious. All the best parts of my life, the things I look forward to the most, they’re all because of you.” I shook my head again, but he tilted his down to press his lips to my hair and I stilled. “Just, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to start with, loving you, experiencing things with you, the feeling of just basic peace and security that I get knowing that when I come home every day I’m coming home to you, or at least to the home we share. And now Brody. I mean, I feel without a doubt that this, him being here with us, is what was meant to happen, but it wouldn’t have, without you. The family that we have is because of you. So thank you,” he whispered the last sentence and pressed his lips to my hair again, his kisses bookends to his words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I didn’t know what to say to that, really. I couldn’t think of any response that would come close to being worthy of his wonderful, beautiful words. That had always been a problem for me, really, expressing my big, big emotions in words that felt adequate; it was why I’ve always preferred writing - cards, letters, even email and social media - because it allowed me to check and double-check my words to make sure they were good enough. And he deserved good enough. “Dodger was here before me,” I said, just to buy myself some time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled into my hair. “Fair. But you brought me Millie, so those balance out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. I should have known he’d find a loophole. Oh well, after knowing me for five years, I had no doubt he knew exactly what I was doing with that comment anyway. He stayed quiet while I finished sorting out my thoughts enough to say something that actually mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I feel the same way, right?” He hummed quietly. “I mean, not only are you a part of every good thing in my life, you’re the reason I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No ma’am. I get no credit for who you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I closed my eyes and shook my head for a second then leaned down to kiss Brody’s cheek before turning so that I perched on the edge of the bed, my right foot moving to the floor and my left leg bending up onto the mattress and folding in front of me so that my foot tucked under my other thigh. My body was angled toward Chris’s as much as possible without wrapping my legs around his waist (and while that was always a good option, it wasn’t one I felt comfortable pursuing in our son’s bed with him sleeping right next to us). “I mean, you’re not wrong, because yeah, I’m my own person, but also, you’re kinda wrong.” He just lifted both eyebrows and blinked back at me like I wasn’t making any sense. I supposed I wasn’t. “What I mean is, yes, I’m responsible for the person that I am, but I lost her, for a little while. And you gave me the tools to find her again, and a reason to want to. Without you, I’d have gone on convincing myself that I was okay with the life I was living when we met. I’d have kept believing that I didn’t need, or deserve, what we have. You didn’t fix me, only I could do that, but you showed me that it was possible for me to be fixed, and stood right next to me every step of the way, and you and your beautiful heart and your amazing, powerful love reminded me otherwise every time I started to feel like it wasn’t worth it, like </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands had lifted to his face as I spoke, my thumb tracing his bottom lip, index finger outlining his eyebrow, then his lashes, when his eyes fluttered closed, nails scratching lightly through his beard. I cupped both palms around his jaws on either side as I concluded, my fingers stretching up to land just in front of his ears, at his temples, just brushing the corner of his eyes. I pulled him gently forward and I felt his hands land on my back, one so low that his pinkie and ring fingers slipped under the waistband of my sleep shorts and rested atop my panties and one between my shoulder blades. I breathed him in as our lips met, sinking into the warm, comfortable feeling of being enveloped by him, his body, his scent, his taste, and I felt a sense of peace that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Since the first time I’d learned about Brody, if I was being honest. Nothing had changed between Chris and me in that time, not really, but we’d both been just a little on edge, even if only subconsciously, waiting for something to go wrong, for the other shoe to drop and disrupt our fledgling family. Our marriage had never been in danger, but it wasn’t until that afternoon as we walked out of the courthouse, his smile matching the lightness in my heart, that we felt we could truly, comfortably say the same for our family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I let him draw my bottom lip between both of his own, sucking at it gently and tracing it with the tip of his tongue, then pulled away to rest my forehead against his. “Like you said, this is where the three of us were meant to end up. And I may have been the one to recognize that, initially, but that was only possible because of all the ways you’ve made my heart strong, and open, and whole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kissed me again, and there was a desperation to it that time, his hands tugging me against his chest as mine slid around his neck, his tongue finding its way into my mouth the moment our lips came together, his breath coming in heavy pants through his nose. I let him kiss me like that, kissing back with the same fervor, for only a couple seconds before the quiet sigh from beside us reminded us both of where we were. His hands relaxed, sliding around to rest on my ribs, and I brought mine to rest over his shoulders, fisting his shirt in my hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes moved between mine a couple times, then down to my lips, likely shining and a little swollen, then down farther before he dragged them back up. His thumbs drifted side-to-side over my ribs just under my breasts. “I think I’m ready to go to bed now,” he whispered, voice husky, and all I could do was nod as I let him pull me up with him.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Satisfied</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It had been too long. Not since we’d had sex. No, that was still a regular occurrence, and a very satisfying one. But since we’d done it without worrying about time or being interrupted or, well, anything. We’d barely even started, but I knew it was different. I could feel it in the air, in his touch, in the way my skin tingled and my blood simmered.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know I've said this about things before, but this time I REALLY mean it - this  is like, all smut. Seriously. It's smut with emotion, and there's a bit of pillow talk, but basically ... yeah, that's it. Just wanted to throw that out there, fair warning, in case that's not your cup of tea.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Chris held my hand in his as we walked wordlessly down the hall to our bedroom, and it felt almost like we were teenagers slipping off to be together for the first time. He squeezed my hand once as he closed the door behind us then slipped his hand free from mine and made his way to the armchair in the corner of the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as I went to my side of the bed, watching as he tugged his t-shirt over his head and dropped it into the chair then pushed his flannel pajama pants over his hips and to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d stopped sleeping naked when Brody came to live with us, knowing that having a six-year-old in the house meant the ongoing possibility of a closed door being thrown open or the need to jump out of bed suddenly. I wasn’t sure if he was changing things up intentionally, preparing for what we both knew without saying was about to happen, or if he was reverting to old habits subconsciously, distracted by the fact that the weight we’d both been carrying for months was gone. Either way, it was impossible to look away as he crossed the room to stand opposite me on his own side of the bed, a smirk on his lips and his dick already standing tall and proud and bouncing lightly against his stomach as he walked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted one eyebrow and looked at me for a second then reached for the sheet and comforter folded neatly below the pillows. I matched him on my side and we pulled down the covers slowly and almost carefully, like he wasn’t naked and hard and I hadn’t nearly soaked through my panties already. He climbed into bed, scooting to the center of the mattress and lying down only halfway so that his shoulders rested against the headboard, not bothering to pull the blankets up any higher than where they landed, lying across his hips so that the head of his cock peeked out above the folded edge of the sheet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I pulled my tank top over my head, I didn’t miss how his eyes fell immediately to my breasts, watching them move as I dropped the top to the floor and bent to push my shorts and panties down. I crawled onto the mattress under the half-drawn covers and he extended the arm closest to me, an invitation to share his space, to sidle up against him. I curled around him, my arm falling across his stomach and my leg coming up to hook over both of his and my head landing on his shoulder, where I turned to kiss whatever skin I could reach. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close, and the other hand came up to hold onto my hip, fingers pressing into warm, bare skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tipped my head back to look up at him and he was already smiling softly down at me. “Hey there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <span>Hi,” I whispered back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Long day,” he murmured, his arm still falling over my shoulders and his hand coming up to pet my hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmhmm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our boy barely made it into his bed before he passed out, he was so exhausted. He’s sleepin’ pretty hard in there.” The implied meaning of the innocent words, the idea that we could afford to be a little less quiet, a little less cautious than usual, wasn’t lost on me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <span>Very,” I blinked up at him. “He’d sleep through a tornado at this point, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A low rumble started deep in his chest, and by the time it had worked itself up through his throat it came out almost as a growl. He held my shoulder and my hip tight and rolled himself until he was above me, his weight pressing me down into the mattress as he kicked the sheet and comforter farther down the bed so that they came up only as high as our knees. My hands flew up instinctively, framing his face as he pressed his lips to mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I </span>
  <span>didn’t do it on purpose, but as he licked into my mouth and pressed his hips against mine, his hard length burning a trail up my lower abdomen, I rolled my own hips upward and let out a needy whine. “Want you,” he murmured into my mouth and I nodded breathlessly, desperately threading my fingers into his hair to keep him close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been too long. Not since we’d had sex. No, that was still a regular occurrence, and a very satisfying one. But since we’d done it without worrying about time or being interrupted or, well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We’d barely even started, but I knew it was different. I could feel it in the air, in his touch, in the way my skin tingled and my blood simmered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>H</span>
  <span>e squeezed my hip and I hooked that same leg around his, letting my foot curl around the back of his knee and my thigh come up to rest at his waist. Still holding himself up somewhat with the arm that looped under my shoulders, half his weight supported by his forearm, he slid his other hand from my hip over until he was sliding his middle finger through my folds, already slick and ready for him. “So wet for me already, pretty girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I </span>
  <span>lifted my head off the pillow behind me to press a kiss just below his ear. “You tend to have that effect on me,” I whispered before drawing his earlobe between my lips and flicking my tongue over it. He pulled away to look down at me and I watched his lips curl up into a grin before he kissed me again, pushing my head back into the pillow. He kissed me like that, steady and intense but in no rush, for a long moment, until I was lax and pliable beneath him. Then, as he was slipping his tongue past my lips yet again, he slid his middle finger inside me, the heel of his hand pressing</span>
  <em>
    <span> just right</span>
  </em>
  <span> against my clit. I gasped, squeaked, really, then moaned softly and he smirked against my lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <span>I guess you like that.” I nodded, my fingers so tight in his hair they had to be pulling. “Good.” He kissed me again and it was softer than it had been before, gentler, more careful. As he slowed things down I let my hands slide from his hair, my right curling around his bicep where his left arm still wrapped around me and bore his weight and my left arm falling across his back so that my hand could hold tight to his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My breath hitched and I arched up into him when his index finger joined the middle one, both pushing slowly into me before curling then pulling back out, only to do it all over again. He shifted his weight to one side, making his cock move along my stomach until it lay warm and solid on my hip. I was just about to pull my hand from his shoulder to slide it between our bodies and wrap it around him, then he twisted his hand until his thumb thrummed over my clit. I pulled away from his kiss to press my face into the side of his neck, my breath stuttering as it washed over his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He touched me like he was in no hurry, like he was just enjoying the way his thumb slid so easily over and around the swollen bundle of nerves under it, the way his fingers moved in and out of the wet heat of my body.  I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my parted lips tighter against the soft skin at the side of his neck. “Love how you react for me, how you let me know what you like,” he murmured into my hair before craning down to trail kisses across my shoulder. My nails bit into his skin as my whole body tensed under him. He was always so generous, so attentive, always made me feel like my pleasure was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. That had stayed true over the past several months, even as our times together had gotten more hurried, more a push to bring one another to orgasm, to momentarily turn off the rest of the world and alleviate stress and anxiety, and less taking our time, exploring, cherishing, revelling. But as he held me close, pulling me tight against his chest as his mouth and his fingers moved carefully, almost reverently, over me in the dim glow cast by our bedside lamps, everything was so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>than it had been in such a long, long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>H</span>
  <span>e traced one side of my collarbone with his tongue then pulled back to look down at me again. He bumped my nose with his, encouragement to tilt my head back so he could kiss me again. He nipped my bottom lip lightly then pulled away with a soft smile and a gleam in his eye. “Want me to go down on you? Let me taste you?” he asked softly, his hand still working me over and his hips shifting slightly against mine. I shook my head and his brow furrowed, his look one of almost concern. “No?” That wasn’t an offer I’d ever turned down before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head again, my breathing fast and heavy. “No, just want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>I rolled my hips, making his fingers sink a little deeper into me and his hard cock rub along my hip bone. “Need </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” I panted into his mouth before I used my grip on his shoulder to pull him back down until his lips crashed against mine. He moaned into the kiss and his chest heaved, the short hair smattered across his skin rubbing over my sensitive nipples.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <span>God, baby,” he dragged his mouth from my chin across my jaw, his beard scratching at my skin as he kissed along my jaw to my ear then started down my neck, stopping so that his lips moved across my pulse as he continued speaking, burning his words into my skin. “‘M gonna give you what you need, but you keep sayin’ and doin’ shit like that, and it’s not gonna last very long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My hands went back to his face, my palms cupping his jaws and my fingers pressing to his cheeks, so I could pull him back to me. I held him so his forehead rested against mine and locked my eyes on his. “I don’t care. I just need to feel you, need you inside me, feel like you’re part of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded as he nearly smashed our lips together, his fingers wrapped so tightly around the top of my arm that I would complain under any other circumstances, the fingers of his other hand sliding slowly out of me, fingertips trailing up through my folds until they passed over my clit then wrapping around himself as he lifted his hips to align our bodies. He slid his hand, his fingers no doubt coated in my wetness, up and down his length just two times before positioning the head, slick from his fingers and his own precome, at my entrance. He pushed in just an inch or so, maybe two at most, before stilling just long enough for his hand to take back its former place on my hip. He held me in place as he rolled his hips, filling me slowly and steadily and not stopping until his pelvis bumped mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally stopped moving, apparently satisfied with how far he had managed to bury himself inside me, the air settled heavy and thick around us, charged with energy and electricity and emotion and promise. His fingers drew circles over my hip as he pushed himself up to hover over me on his other arm. He leaned down to kiss my nose sweetly and pulled back smiling. I smiled back and let my hands drift down, along his neck and over his chest and under his arms until my arms wrapped around his back. His hand left my hip and I jumped, my gasp making him giggle, when his thumb passed over my clit one more time as he shifted his weight a little to the side before he brought his hand up to trail his fingertips lightly down the side of my neck and finally lifted his hand to his own mouth, pressing the pad of his thumb between his lips as he held it horizontally across his mouth. He sucked at it for a second before drawing first his index finger then his middle finger fully between his lips, making a show of sucking each one clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed happily as he withdrew his finger from his mouth, his hand reaching behind him to wrap around my wrist and bring it up to press it into the pillow above my head. “Taste so good, my sweet, sweet girl.” As if to drive the point home, he bent to trace his tongue along the same path his fingers had drawn over my neck. My legs came up to wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass and pressing him back in where he’d pulled out slightly during his little show. “That’s my girl, show me what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you,” I arched my back so that my hips pulled away from him then rolled them back up again, once again using my heels on his ass to push him into me as I did. “I always just want you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he hissed, and another time I would have joked that yes, that’s exactly what we were doing. I didn’t feel like joking, just then. He pushed his hand up from my wrist to press our palms together, his fingers lacing with mine. “You’ve got me. Always.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t be sure how long we went on like that, him holding me, enveloping my senses, as I wrapped myself around him in every way possible, the two of us moving together elegantly, well-practiced but never boring or dull, never anything less than electrifying. Eventually though, my head thrown back, neck straining as he peppered kisses across my chest, everything fuzzy and blurred around the edges as I lost myself to everything in the world except what he was making me feel, he pushed up over me, his hips never losing their rhythm. “D’you need me to touch you? Can I touch you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded frantically. “Please, yes, please,” I whispered, and he squeezed my hand once before pulling his free to trail it down my arm then over my side and across my abdomen until he was once again pressing a finger to my clit. Then it was two fingers, drawing tight circles over it a few times then pinching it carefully between them as he slid his fingers up and down. He had to shift his hips a little to one side to make it work, and when he did it meant he hit a whole new set of nerves inside me. My thighs tightened so hard around his waist that his hip bones dug a little painfully into the sensitive skin on the insides of them and both of my hands clenched, one around my pillow and the other on the back of his shoulder, my nails dragging across his skin as it balled into a fist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lowered his lips to mine, but instead of kissing me, he said, “Close, aren’t you baby?” When I nodded again, breathlessly, he added, “I can tell. Always get so tight around me.” He pinched my clit a little harder and I whined as my belly tightened and my legs started to tremble. “That’s it,” he cooed, “let go for me.”  He snapped his hips forward and I let out a moan that he swallowed up in a kiss, hot and desperate and sloppy, almost. He didn’t ease up or slow down, tugging my bottom lip with his teeth as he drove into me. “Let me feel that sweet body lose control around me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I did. My muscles tensed and my heart raced and my breath shook and my walls pulsed and fluttered around him, and all of it was beyond my control. I couldn’t control the gasps, the moans, the whimpers, that worked up through my throat and past my lips, but he could, his open mouth locked over mine so he could take them all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My orgasm started to wane, my muscles relaxing and my grip on him loosening and the pulses inside my body tapering off to occasional spasms. He moved his hand from between us, his fingers sliding gently off my clit, to slide it under me and onto the small of my back, and he slowed the drive of his hips to an easy, almost lazy roll into me. “Good?” he asked with a grin, his nose bumping mine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I panted a couple times, blinking up at him, then breathed, “Fuck yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned wider and even chuckled a little. “Good.” He wiggled his eyebrows, “Now what?” The question could have meant </span>
  <em>
    <span>What happens now that you’re finished? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Except we both knew I wasn’t finished, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>weren’t finished. What he really meant was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s our next move? Our next position? The next way I get to drive us both crazy?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes up and bit my bottom lip, pretending to think about his question. “Hmm. Well,” I moved my hand from above my head, where it had been laying lax and open since I’d started to come down, to trace his ear with the tip of my forefinger, letting it continue on, down the side of his neck then finally across his broad shoulders until my arm was wrapped around him. I brought up my other hand, which had started trailing lazily up and down his spine at the same easy pace that he continued the push and pull into and back out of my heat, to do the same, so that I held him tight in a hug as I looked up at him. “Flip?” I finally asked with a barely contained smirk, already hugging him tighter in preparation for the change in position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” His eyes flashed and his fingers flexed against me where they rested high on my arm and low on my back. “You wanna go for a little ride?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well. I don’t know about </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but yeah, I’m up for it if you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He darted down to nip at the hinge of my jaw. “Now when have I ever not been </span>
  <em>
    <span>up </span>
  </em>
  <span>for that?” I started to giggle, but it quickly became a squeal when he flexed his arms to hold me tighter then rolled us both so that he was on his back looking up at me where I suddenly found myself on top, him still inside me as he kicked at the blankets that had tangled around his lower legs until they lay in a messy heap at the foot of the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re good at that,” I told him as I got comfortable, unwinding my arms from his neck to brace them on his shoulders and push myself up to sitting, rocking my hips forward and back as I did. Once I was upright, my legs tucked under me on either side of his hips and torso so I could use the muscles in them to push myself up then lower myself back down onto him, his hands found my thighs, running over them almost mindlessly as I continued to move - up until he was barely still inside me, back down until I was fully seated on him and every inch, every fraction of an inch, was buried inside me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’re good at </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he said, his eyes squeezing tight and his fingers doing the same on my legs. “Fuck baby, so good.” I repeated the movement, lifting myself at the same pace as before but sinking down onto him as slowly as I could manage. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he hissed, then reached up to grab my hips. “Be still a second?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his early proclamation that he wouldn’t last long with me behaving the way I was, I knew he couldn’t actually have been all that close, not with the way he’d slowed things down the last few minutes, or the interruption caused by our change in position, as smooth as it was. Still, I stopped moving, because he asked me to. One hand went to the mattress beside his ribs, and he pushed himself up to sitting, wrapping his other arm around my waist as he did. He folded his legs in front of him, bending them at the knees and crossing them at the ankles, almost like he was making a seat for me on his thighs. As soon as he was settled, he wrapped his hands around my calves, tugging gently, just enough to encourage me to unfold my legs and wrap them around his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally we were situated, me on his lap with my legs wrapped securely around him and my arms draped over his shoulders, his hands running smoothly and hotly up and down my back as he tilted his head back just a little to gaze up at me. “Hi again,” he murmured with a smile, rocking so that he pushed deeper into me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t go quite as deep in that position as he could have if he’d stayed lying flat and let me ride him like he’d teased, but the slight lack of depth was more than made up for by the fact that the angle had him bumping </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>spot  inside me with every rock of his hips, that spot that would have me reduced to a quivering, incoherent mess in no time, especially considering I was already one orgasm in and already over-stimulated and overly sensitive. All of that, combined with the way he was able to hold me to his chest, to share my air, to easily press his lips to mine, to my neck, even my chest and my breasts, added up to promise something so, so much better than the hard and fast ride that would undoubtedly have been satisfying, but wouldn’t have had my heart fluttering the way it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey back,” I whispered before leaning in to kiss him, teasing at his lips with my tongue and starting to roll my own hips opposite his. One of his arms curled securely around my waist, helping to move my body up and down on him, and the other hand pushed up my spine, under my hair until his long fingers were curling around the back of my neck, holding me in place as his tongue tangled with mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he broke the kiss, leaving me panting against his cheek, he tightened his arm around my waist, drawing me against him so that as the head of his cock continued to bump against my g-spot, my clit also got delicious friction, rubbing against his skin just above the base of his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god,” I moaned, “Chris, that’s, god, so good. Close again.” The second one always came so much faster than the first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whenever you’re ready, baby,” he kissed down the front of my throat and onto my chest and I instinctively arched my back, pushing my breasts up toward him. “Don’t hold back on my account,” he added, lips moving over the swell of my breast, just before he bent down a little more to suck the nipple between his lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gasped audibly, a little shriek at the end, and tightened my left arm across his shoulders to hold him close while my right elbow rested on his shoulder and my hand sank into his hair, fingers tangling into the messy strands before tightening into a fist. He moaned and I felt the vibrations on my breast just before he started to flick his tongue over my hardened, sensitive nipple. My head fell back and I panted up into empty air as I felt myself tightening around him again, lifting my head then dropping it forward to press my face to the top of his head just before I came, muffling my yell as my second orgasm broke over me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let go of me with both hands as soon as I stopped trembling, moving them to curl his palms and long fingers around my sides and running them slowly, soothingly, up and down my ribs as I came down, letting me continue to rock slowly against him without urging me to do any more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” he asked when I finally lifted my head from his, my hands sliding down to sit on his chest over skin and hair and ink, and he looked up at me with a proud little grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s better than perfect?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squinted for a second and let his tongue dart out to wet his bottom lip before drawing it between his teeth; it took all my willpower not to lean down and sink my own teeth into it. After a second he said, “Exquisite?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>exquisite</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm, that you definitely are,” he answered with a quick jerk of his eyebrows before pulling me forward to kiss me slowly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span> I thought as his tongue swept across mine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve been played. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Well. It’s not like I was going to complain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We’d mostly stopped moving, but he was still inside me, and I clenched around him as I pulled back, drawing nonsense patterns over his chest and tracing random parts of different tattoos. He groaned quietly - I could tell he was trying to hold back - so I did it again, prompting him to slide his hands down to cup my ass and pull me more fully down onto him. I leaned in, tracing the shell of his ear with my tongue before pressing my cheek to his and whispering huskily, “How do you want to finish, handsome?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are</span>
  <em>
    <span> you </span>
  </em>
  <span>done?” he asked, squeezing my ass in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded. “I think so.” That had seemed to bother him a bit early on, not being able to give me as many orgasms as he wanted to. He seemed to think he was letting me down, somehow. Relatively quickly, though, I’d gotten him to understand that once I’d had a really powerful one, whether it was the first, the second, or the fourth (because yeah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>happened on a not-too-uncommon basis, prior to the last several months, anyway), I moved past </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so sensitive you can get me off just by breathing in my direction </span>
  </em>
  <span>to </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m so sensitive it’s just not going to happen again, and it might even get painful if you try too hard. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At that point he started taking my declarations that there were no more orgasms to be had at face value, and also as the very positive thing that they were. After all, once he’d gotten me to that point, it meant he’d done everything right, and then some. And once he figured that out, he started letting me use our remaining time together to focus just on him, to put all my attention and energy into making him feel as good as he’d just done for me. I think all in all, he was happy with the arrangement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In that case,” he kissed my temple and pulled back, managing to look sweet and innocent and hopeful, even as his fingers kneaded into the muscles of my ass and his thumbs traced little circles just above it and he was still hot and hard inside me, “can I have you from behind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I cradled his face in my hands and kissed him, hard and a little dirty, rocking my hips in time to the way my tongue worked in and out of his mouth. “You’ve had me for the past five and a half years,” I told him after pulling back, dragging my teeth along his bottom lip as I went. “If what you’re asking is if I’ll get on my hands and knees for you, then you’re gonna have to let go of my ass so I can turn around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He growled, no intelligible words coming out with the sound, and twisted his upper body in a lunge that had me flying, barely controlled by the strong arms that came up to work around my back, toward the mattress. It was a little awkward, a little sloppy, and I think I even heard something pop, a knee, maybe, or an ankle or hip joint, and I wasn’t even sure if it was one of mine or his, but it wasn’t long before I once again found myself on my back, my feet planted flat on the mattress on either side of his knees as he hovered over me on his knees and forearms. “The fuck did I ever do to deserve you?” he asked, and as he did he tone slid seamlessly from one of hunger to one of kind, gentle tenderness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed myself up with one hand, reaching to curl the other around the back of his neck so I could pull him in for a kiss. It was slower, softer that the last had been, a series of careful easy pecks against his lips that occasionally ended in me wrapping both of mine around his bottom one and sucking gently on it for just a fraction of a second. “Everything,” I told him as I pulled back just an inch or so, my thumb tracing over his hairline at the nape of his neck, “you are everything I deserve and so, so much more.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned in to capture my lips with his again, kissing me like he was exploring, like he was trying to commit every contour of my mouth, every escaped mewl, to memory. He was so intent, so focused, that he didn’t seem to realize that I was sliding back, my heels digging into the mattress as I used my legs to push my butt toward the headboard. Eventually I was sitting upright, my legs stretched long in front of me, and he was kneeling, leaning forward into the kiss and holding me by the waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sneaky girl,” he whispered against my lips, and I giggled as he pulled back. He sat back on his calves and his heels, his feet flexed and toes curled under, and I held my breath as I took in the sight in front of me, his shoulders broad and strong and dappled with freckles, his chest and abs all ridges and ink, thighs pale, milky skin and short, dark hair over twitching, quivering muscles, and in the middle of it all, his dick, thick and hard and shining from everything we’d done so far, pointing upward and laying a little to one side, resting on his thigh and hip. Honestly, I’d let that man do anything he wanted to me, partly because he looked like that, but mostly because he loved me the way he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I kept my hand on the back of his neck and reached between us to wrap the other around his length, sliding it slowly up then down again and drawing my thumb around the head. I pressed my forehead to his and told him, “Not sneaky, just wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel.” I pumped him one more time, twisting my wrist at the top before I slid my hand back down, then sat back again, lifting my right leg over his thighs to join my left then swinging them both to tuck under me so that I could push up onto my knees. I kissed him one more time, just a quick one, then darted back before we got distracted again and spun quickly so that my back was to him. I shifted my legs until I felt my feet settle on the outsides of his knees and bent forward at the waist until my hands hit the mattress just below the pillows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I turned to look back at him over my shoulder and caught just the tail end of his tongue passing over his lips as his hands reached for the outsides of my thighs just above my knees. I watched him shuffle forward, still resting his weight back on his heels, until his knees were between my calves then I felt his hands start to slide up my legs as he bent forward to press his lips to the small of my back. His nose skimmed up my spine as he pushed up onto his knees, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to my skin every couple inches as his hands made their way to my hips. Finally he nosed my hair to the side to suck at a spot on the back of my neck just as his fingers sank into the usually ticklish crease where my thighs met my body. I was far, far too far gone to be ticklish anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My head dropped forward when he pulled away from my neck with a quiet sucking sound</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I could feel his knees move along the insides of my calves as he shuffled forward a little more, then his hands traveled up even higher, curling over my hips so that his palms could draw mirroring circles over my ass cheeks. He did that a few times, squeezing once at the end, before his left hand slid forward again, fingers curling around my hip and sinking into my flesh, and his right hand left my body altogether. I tried to brace myself for what I knew was coming, but before I’d even drawn in a complete breath, he was using his right knee to nudge mine so that I opened my legs for him a little more and the blunt head of his cock was pressing against my entrance. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, baby?” he asked quietly, and his thumb moved soothingly over my hip and side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, “Exquisite,” and he groaned as he pushed in, pulling me back onto him first with his left hand, then with both as his right landed on my other hip once he was a couple of inches inside me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew that was his favorite, me, bent over in front of him. It could be on my knees or over the bathroom counter or even, once upon a time, the kitchen table. Of course, he’d do it any way I wanted, no questions asked and no complaints, but I knew he loved the control he had in that position - control over the speed, the depth, the force - and the view didn’t hurt, either. It wasn’t my favorite, but I enjoyed it more than I think he realized I did, based on the way he always acted like I was doing him a favor, just because of how much he loved it. As if he wanted to remind me of that, he moaned deep in his throat as he pushed smoothly all the way in, grinding his hips against my ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Holding me in place with his hands just below my waist, he pulled out slowly, almost all the way, then pushed back in, one fluid motion. He set a slow, easy pace and I felt his hands start to move, the right sliding down and forward, onto my stomach, and the left moving to the base of my spine and pushing slowly up until he was wrapping it around most of my hair where it hung over my shoulder, holding it in a low ponytail in his fist. He tugged, turning my head until it was twisted around and I was looking back up at him, and then he grinned just before folding himself over me, pressing his chest to my back and still holding my hair with one hand as the other moved up and across my stomach and ribs until it was curling around my breast, holding it in his palm and kneading slowly. He pulled my hair a little harder to turn my head a little more so that he could reach my lips and when he kissed me I hummed, purred almost. That did something for him, because he growled lowly then sank his teeth into my bottom lip and snapped his hips forward so hard I gasped and jumped a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still good?” he asked against my lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just nodded and thrust my tongue into his mouth and he began pushing into me even faster, even harder. He moved his hand on my breast, trailing his fingertips over my skin until he plucked at my nipple, alternating between pinching and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, just on the pleasurable side of too much, and drawing soft, careful circles over it with the pad of his thumb. After one particularly well-angled thrust, as he ground his hips against me in a circle, I surprised us both with a high pitched moan when I clenched involuntarily - and rather strongly - around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you were done,” he said, moving his lips to the underside of my jaw as he tugged at my hair again, pulling my head back until my neck was fully bared to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So did I,” I panted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scraped his teeth over my skin then repeated everything he’d just done, from the way he snapped his hips to the way he moved them once he was fully seated inside me to the way he pulled at my nipple with his thumb and two fingers. And my body responded the same way. He did it all three more times until, suddenly and without warning, I was coming around him again, nearly screaming as I held myself up on shaking arms and he pressed his lips to mine frantically. It had been a long time since I’d come so hard, and I couldn’t even remember the last time an orgasm had taken me by surprise like that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For his part, Chris didn’t ease me through it, didn’t pet me gently or wait for me to come down. Almost as soon as I started pulsing around him, harder than either of the first two times, as far as I could tell, his whole hand closed around my breast and his hips started to pound into me, much harder and faster than before. It would probably have hurt if I wasn’t already open and dripping wet from two previous orgasms and currently experiencing a third that also happened to be one of the best of my life - he was far from small and there had certainly been times that the stretch had been more than I was ready for, or the spots he hit inside me weren’t necessarily the good ones - but as it was it only made everything I was already feeling even more intense. I shifted my weight so I could lift my right hand off the mattress and reach up to the back of his head to fist my hand in his much shorter hair much the way he was doing to me, and when I sank my teeth into his bottom lip, the almost bruising rhythm of his hips stuttered, became erratic, before both of his hands clutched me even tighter and he thrust into me one more time, his hips stilling as he began to come inside me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stayed that way, his hips pressed against my ass, his hands and arms holding me tight, our kisses not so much kisses anymore as they were the both of us panting desperately into the other’s mouth, for a while, longer than usual, the only real movement from either of us the occasional, sporadic jerks and twitches of his hips. Finally, once my orgasm had completely subsided and his seemed to be doing the same, I removed my hand from his hair and he pulled his lips from mine and let his head drop until he was pressing wet kisses across the back of my shoulder. He let go of my hair first, then my breast, and moved both hands to my waist, where he held me almost like I might break. His kisses went from hot, sloppy, to soft and careful and sweet, and after one gentle press of his lips to the back of my head, he shifted his hips to pull out, his forehead resting on the back of my neck until he was completely out of my body and I was wincing from the loss. His arms wound around my waist and he lowered us both carefully back down onto the bed on our sides, his chest glued to my back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, baby,” he breathed into the back of my head, “I … that was … Fuck. I think you broke my brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I found myself giggling, both at him and at the idea that popped suddenly into my head, and I wiggled until his arms loosened around me and rolled onto my back so that I could look over at him as I said, “When you touched me I forgot my dang name, set my heart aflame, every part aflame. That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a game.” His eyes narrowed slowly into an expression that said clearly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not. Amused</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Oh, so you're the only one in this house who gets to borrow from Hamilton?” I questioned, looking back at him with just as much attitude as he was directing at me. I loved it, the balance of sweet and salty, so to speak, in our relationship, the way we were able to switch so seamlessly from sweet, loving tenderness to fucking each other nearly through the mattress to teasing snark and sarcasm. I knew he loved it too. It was one of the reasons we worked so well, one of the reasons we had from the very beginning; we both got each other, were both able to give the other a run for their money in just about any direction. “You don't think Lin would be just as honored when I do it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scoffed a little and lifted one eyebrow skeptically. “When you use his life's work to talk about our sex life? Yeah, honored isn't the first word that comes to mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pushed my lips out in an exaggerated pout and made my eyes wide as I looked over at him where he’d pulled his arm from under me to sink his elbow into his pillow and prop his head on his hand. I even went so far as crossing my arms just under my breasts, pushing them up a little. “You’re no fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He actually snorted then. “Okay. Tell that to the three orgasms you just had.” He lifted the arm he’d draped over my waist to brush his thumb over one of my nipples as he leaned over to kiss my cheek with a wet, sloppy </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Now,” he patted my hip then lifted his hand to push my hair back carefully from my forehead, “go pee. I’m all sex-drunk and cuddly and I wanna snuggle with my wife.” He combed his fingers through my hair and kissed my temple, a soft, gentle contrast to the mess he’d just made of my cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir,” I told him, still teasing, before I rolled toward the edge of the bed and swung my feet onto the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” his voice stopped me before I’d even made it three steps and I looked back at him over my shoulder, “three minutes or less,” he said with a wink, an inside joke that went back to the early days of our marriage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roughly two and a half minutes later I was shuffling back toward the bed, feeling much cleaner and much </span>
  <em>
    <span>colder </span>
  </em>
  <span>than before. I was thrilled but not surprised to see that while I’d been gone, he had, as always, managed to straighten out the covers we’d all but destroyed, pulling them back up neatly and tucking them around his chest where he lay on his side, head still resting on one palm as he watched me come back to bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grabbed for the blankets as soon as I was within reach of the bed and he jumped, looking a little startled, to lift them for me. “Oh, no panties? No shirt?” he asked, as if to explain away his surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought I’d take a pass on those tonight,” I told him, shrugging, as I slipped between the sheets, “I kinda just wanted to feel your skin against mine for a while longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grin was wide and pure. “Hey, you’ll get no complaints from me on that.” He rolled onto his back and stretched his arm across my side of the mattress. I laid on my side and tucked myself against him, resting my head on his chest and bending up my leg to lay it over both of his. Once I was still, his heart beating steadily beneath my ear, he said, his voice directed up toward the ceiling, “So, am I crazy, or was that -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” I cut him off, “that was incredible.” My fingertips traced over each of the many tattoos decorating his abs and his ribs under the blankets, the designs all but burned into my fingertips, I’d done it so many times. “Like, it hasn’t been that good in a long, long time. I mean,” I backtracked, realizing how that could have come out, “don’t get me wrong, it’s never bad, you always get the job done -”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed my shoulder, “You mean you’re always satisfied?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I rolled my eyes. “You always get the job done. But that was … intense. Special.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm.” His hand trailed up and down my spine and he bent to kiss the top of my head. “Good words. But, why? Not complaining, but why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I twisted to squint up at him. “Seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” his eyes darted nervously side-to-side, “yes? Is that bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I shook my head. “No, not at all. I just, I’m surprised.” I craned to look up at him fully from my spot on his chest, “I mean, usually if something’s clear to me it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>obvious to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you may be overestimating my intelligence there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I pinched his side. “Yeah yeah, whatever. But no, I mean,” I lifted one shoulder then took a second to reposition myself, turning onto my stomach and almost draping myself across his body, one of my legs wedging between his and my hands resting one on top of the other in the center of his chest so I could drop my chin onto them, “just think about how our life has changed over the past several months. It’s not just the change in routine, the added responsibilities and obligations, the necessity to make sure we’re not going to scar Brody for life by having him walk in on something he really doesn’t need to see. It’s the fact that, for me anyway, I think today is the first time I’ve truly </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathed </span>
  </em>
  <span>since March, maybe even January.” He pushed my hair over my ear on one side and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “We’ve been living our lives in a fog of stress, anxiety, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I mean, I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrified</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Chris.” My voice cracked a little as I confessed that. He nodded in understanding, maybe even agreement, and dropped his hand to my waist to give it a comforting squeeze. “But today, with a few signatures and a stamp on a piece of paper, we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>again, we can relax and stop being afraid and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I think this was us … showing that to each other.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” His brow furrowed and his head bobbed as he breathed out the word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Do you think I’m crazy? Am I reading way too much into things?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I started to roll off him but his hands stopped me, one holding tight to my hip and the other flattening between my shoulder blades where it had been rubbing softly over my back. “No. No, I don’t think you’re crazy at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I think that makes perfect sense and like you said, I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I grinned and jerked my eyebrows once toward my hairline. “I guess I really did break your brain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He faked a glare down at me and shook his head. “Brat. It’s a good thing I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And there was that shift again, I could feel it in the air, in the way my heart thudded and my throat tightened. “I know,” I told him, lifting my chin off my hands so I could bring one up to rest on his cheek. “It’s a really, really good thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hooked his hands under my arms and pulled me up far more easily than I thought should have been possible, pressing his lips to mine as soon as I was close enough. The kiss was sweet and chaste, especially considering we were both naked and the room still smelled faintly of sex. When he pulled away he moved to press an equally sweet kiss to my forehead then let me go to shimmy back down and curl around his side once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few seconds of quiet, the only sounds the rustling of the sheets as we both shifted, him scooting farther down the mattress to rest his head on his pillow and me moving to my own, one arm tucked under it as I faced him and the other draped lightly over his waist, he spoke again to the ceiling.  “And here I was worried that becoming parents would </span>
  <em>
    <span>hinder </span>
  </em>
  <span>our sex life.” All I could do was roll my eyes and shake my head as he looked over at me and wiggled his eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went quiet for a while, and he could’ve been asleep, except I could still see him blinking, his eyelashes falling then lifting again every couple seconds. Finally he wrapped both hands carefully around my forearm where it crossed over his body and squeezed. “Thank you,” he almost whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unless that’s for the orgasm,” I told him, my voice dripping with sarcasm, “I don’t want it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed and shook his head like he should have seen that coming. “Okay,” he rolled onto his side to face me, making sure not to dislodge my arm where it still lay over him, “thank you for a really fucking amazing orgasm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome,” I nodded once, matter-of-factly, “and back at you times three.” He laughed again and I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes like I was contemplating something. “You know,” I drawled, “it really was a long day. Brody might even sleep in. If we go to sleep right now,” I patted his back with my hand on each of the last two words, “we might wake up early enough for another round or two before we’re back on duty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes went wide and he leaned forward to kiss me soundly. “Oh, I do like the way you think, Mrs. Evans.” He nudged at my hip, encouraging me to roll onto my other side so he could curl himself around me, the big spoon to my little one. When we were both settled, my knees pulled up toward my chest and his tucked behind mine, his arm thrown over my side so he could lace our fingers together on top of the mattress in front of me, he leaned in to kiss just behind my ear and whisper, “Mother of my child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And I realized I’d been wrong before, about one thing. We weren’t us again. We were so much more. We were whole.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And now ... I'm off to turn on Disney+ ...</p></blockquote></div></div>
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